Page 119 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
That evening, Avery and I finally get around to watching the historical drama whose trailer we saw countless times while in the loop.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t worth the wait. Everything good about it was clearly crammed into the trailer. But we enjoy ourselves nonetheless, making comments through much of the two-hour movie and sharing microwaveable popcorn that will not reappear in my cupboard tomorrow.
As the credits start rolling, I turn to Avery. “I assume I was put into the loop to fix the interpersonal relationships in my life. To fall in love with Cam—because if it weren’t for the loop, we wouldn’t have met. Possibly to fix my relationship with my sister too. But I think part of it had to do with you. When I celebrated your birthday—candles and a gift—that was some kind of “proof” of our friendship. I’m not sure exactly what Cam’s grandmother could see of our reality, but I’m convinced she tried to get us both out of the loop that night but failed because she was sick.”
“And me… I was in the loop to break up with Joe and become your friend?”
“That’s my guess.” As I say the words, it feels right.
Neither of us had a close friend before… and now we do. I’m grateful that Avery is part of my life. Grateful Cam’s grandmother could tell this would happen—I assume she had an intuition about the two of us.
On Monday, I find myself leaving the office at the same time as Fernando. I think back to that first June 20, when he commented on me working late again.
I rarely work beyond five thirty now. Yes, it happened once—there was an error that needed to be corrected at the last minute—but I’ve also been saying no to some of the extra tasksmy boss tries to thrust upon me, while glaring at the back of his head when he’s not looking.
The job market isn’t ideal, but hopefully, I’ll find something else in the next few months, and in the meantime, I can manage. When I’m not with my new boyfriend, I spend my free time crocheting and reading. I barely let myself relax for years, but that’s changed now. I’ve let myself relax a little when it comes to spending too—I should be able to enjoy some of my money. Being obsessive about saving was causing me to stress unnecessarily over finances, and that stress was, in fact, what I’d hoped to avoid.
This morning, I packed an overnight bag, and I smile now as I head to Cam’s apartment. While I’m waiting for the subway, a melody pops into my head. It takes a moment for me to figure out what it is: the sea shanty that Cam and Justin were singing the first time I walked into the taproom. I text him and ask if he remembers.
He does.
It’s such a simple thing, sharing a memory with him—but I don’t take it for granted.
Plus, it’s not as simple as it might initially seem. The fact that we’re very different people will color how we remember events and how we move through life. That’s part of the splendor of this strange world in which we find ourselves.
Cam and I are going to make so many great memories together, and I can’t wait.
I also know that the experiences we have, both good and bad, will change who we are. The placeholder versions of us—the Cam I met over and over on June 20, and the me who moved forward in time while I was in the loop—couldn’t change, from what I can tell, because they weren’t the real versions of us. I once wished that my ex hadn’t changed and moved on, but thereis beauty in being able to transform, even if it’s frequently in ways that are small and not terribly dramatic.
Though I don’t know exactly who Cam and I will become, after everything that has happened, I have faith that we can change and grow together.
45Cam
Taste and smell are ancient senses. They’re processed differently from sight and sound. When we smell something, signals go to the parts of the brain involved in memory and emotion. A subtle aroma in a beer, for example, may conjure up pleasant memories from years gone by, contributing to the drinker’s enjoyment of it, even if they’re not entirely conscious of that. I once had a cinnamon bun stout, and I know if I drank one of those now, it would evoke different memories than it did before.
Because of Noelle.
Neither of us will ever fully understand the details of what happened. How were there two different versions of me, one stuck on June 20 and one experiencing time as normal?
But it seems logical that food was a trigger, that taste and smell were involved.
The main thing that drew me to beer wasn’t the science, but the way it could bring people together, yet that degree of mine did make some things easier to understand.
Looking back, I think I might have even felt something change in my brain before I tasted the dumpling, just from the aroma, but perhaps I’m mistaken. The whole experience was just so odd.
I wish my grandmother were here so I could ask herquestions. I’m not convinced I’d get many answers, but I wish I could see her reaction to my words. Maybe get some hint of whether she knew Noelle was right for me from the moment she saw her. I assume that was the case, and my grandma simply did what she could to ensure we didn’t miss each other.
Most of all, I just wish she werehere.
Unfortunately, that’s not something I can change, but her bringing Noelle and me together was a beautiful final gift. I will hold on to what I do have—and my many memories—with everything I can.
I remember sitting with my grandma at the hospital on Boxing Day. She was asleep much of the time, but at one point, she woke up and mumbled in a language I don’t speak. Then she bounced between Mandarin and English. Her voice was weak, and I still couldn’t follow what she was saying. It was something about time, and she was upset. I tried to soothe her, but I didn’t know what to say.
I now assume her words were related to Noelle and the time loop, as were some things she said back in September.
I hope, somewhere, she knows that it all worked out in the end.
EpilogueNoelle
